Chamomile
by Salazarfalcon
Summary: Estelle has a complicated and possibly unhealthy relationship with Raven but she can't deny that he makes a really good cup of tea.


Chamomile

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Summary: Estelle has a complicated and possibly unhealthy relationship with Raven but he makes a really good cup of tea.

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AN: I know, I do a crap ton with Estelle and Raven and you're all probably sick of it, but I wanted to try something a little different and explore some of the darker aspects of what their relationship might have been like after Yuri accepted Raven back into the fray (albeit reluctantly), because there is no way that someone goes through something like that and comes out okay in the slightest. This puts a little bit of a twist on some of their interactions and especially the parts of Estelle that came out damaged from the whole thing. So it's a little different, but I hope it's okay. Writing's been really hard lately and this is a bit of a catharsis for me as well.

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Estelle never had issues sleeping before. Not really. Time was, the worst nighttime problem she had was not being used to sleeping on the ground, a drafty tent, or noisy crickets and a few creepy crawlies.

Now she closes her eyes and had to open them immediately, because when her eyes are closed all she sees are flashes of silver hair and a calculating smile and the sort of calm that frightens her more than the pain he caused her. And once that happens even opening her eyes isn't enough and Estelle's heart races and pounds in her head and it's all she can do to not bolt off into the woods and leave everyone behind.

Even the people she loves and trusts.

Even the people she's made her family.

She can very easily see herself doing it if not for the fact that all she has to do is think about it for her stomach to start churning and for the guilt and shame to threaten to eat her alive. If she were stronger she could fight it. If she was strong at all she'd be able to work through this. For the first time in her short life, Estelle understands why people could give in and rely on drink to erase their problems. She'd do anything to forget.

Nearly.

The worst of Alexei isn't even what he did to her but what he made her do.

Estelle remembers how it felt to turn her sword on her family, and she's no stranger to their sounds of pain, but never before had she dreamt that it would ever be because of her.

And even so, despite it all, Yuri _took her back_.

Even if she wasn't already hopelessly, helplessly devoted to them as it was, that alone would have brought her up short, because Estelle pays her debts. Or tries to when she can't or when she hasn't noticed until too late that she owes. So Estelle doesn't run and she spends her evenings lying awake instead and lying about why she's so tired in the morning, even though she's bad at it. Anything to keep from making things worse since she can't make them better. Lying's what she does, it seems, even if she doesn't mean to.

Even if it's for what she considers a good reason.

Insipid poison, indeed.

These are the dangerous kinds of thoughts that she knows she needs to stay away from before it gets worse. Estelle's unaccustomed to darkness and it seems she's gotten in a few months all she's missed out on. A crash course in the dregs of the world. Or something.

Estelle jerks awake when a phantom voice speaks words she doesn't understand in her ear.

It's funny, she thinks, that death has made Alexei all the more permanent to her. She thinks he would probably enjoy that and hates herself for it. It's a warm night so they didn't bother setting up tents, choosing instead to cloister around the still-burning fire, nearly down to glowing embers. Raven has the night's watch and Estelle nearly lays back down but he's already seen her, and there's no point pretending by now.

"Hi," she mumbles from her bedroll.

He looks over and raises a brow.

"Long night, princess?"

Estelle drags her blanket over and sits down next to him, still maintaining an appropriate distance.

"The longest," she replies too-honestly. There's no point in lying, not when the look on his face says well enough that he knows. And, while Estelle may have at least tried to brush it off to Yuri, or Rita, or even Judith, a very small small and vengeful part of her wants to be truthful with Raven because he deserves it. She wears kid gloves out of consideration, not faithlessness. She takes them off with Raven for the opposite.

Her words land like a blow but Raven doesn't flinch at all.

Their relationship is weird and Estelle doesn't think she likes it. A part of her is deeply afraid of him (and may never stop being so) and even more deeply angry (and also may never stop being so) but she also can't deny the sense of security she gets from him, possibly _because_ of that, and she's not sure how she feels about it. Still, Estelle knows better than to try and deny it. At the same time, Raven could so easily back out of their strange arrangement, especially when it's so _obvious_ that Estelle's using him and not for reasons like trust and camaraderie.

Estelle is skewed now. Trust is a very different thing now, much more fragile and much harder to gain. She feels frayed and violated and she can't forgive Raven for it yet, maybe not ever, no matter how she acts or what she says.

And Raven knows it and doesn't back away from her.

There's something like safety in it, Estelle thinks. Safer than their other interactions and safer than a sharp pain and quick darkness, safer than _Princess? I need to talk to you_ in Myorzo. Estelle clings to this now. Raven's not going anywhere so somehow, _somehow_ she has to make him safe. No matter how she has to do it, which is why she's able to travel with him, laugh with him, heal him. Sit next to him, even. She has to make Raven safe to her or she can't do this anymore, and maybe one of these days the fear's going to get too bad and Estelle will abandon the people she loves to something that's going to implode upon them all.

She _can't do that_.

Raven watches her with an almost amused expression for an uncomfortable amount of time before he lets out a quiet, huffing sigh.

"Can't sleep?"

"You _know_ I can't," Estelle mutters, uncharacteristically surly, and suppresses the flash of guilt that comes even when she's at her worst of humors that tells her that she's being unreasonable and unfair. All the things that a princess can't afford to be, even when the world is falling apart. Especially when the world is falling apart.

Raven watches her in silence. Estelle can't figure out whether he actually finds this genuinely funny or not, and despite it all she's inclined to think he doesn't.

Raven's not a bad person. She knows that. She knows that he had to do what he had to do, that he was trying to save his own life, that he didn't really have a choice...and that her own actions and those of her friends had a part in Raven's betrayal.

That doesn't make it easier to forgive him even if she kind of understands. It doesn't make her any less afraid to know that the way he hates himself mirrors her own or to know that the only reason he's here is out of penance. It doesn't give Estelle back her peace of mind or her ability to trust. Knowledge is supposed to make things easier, not harder. Estelle was wrong about that too.

"I could go for a cup of tea. How about it, princess?" Estelle doesn't reply but Raven doesn't make her feel like she has to, and he digs around silently in the gear to pull out the kettle they use for most everything and another that she's never seen before. It's delicate and pretty and made from blue ceramic, and Estelle wonders how he's managed to keep it from being broken all this way. It has to be more durable than it looks. With the teapot come a set of small cups with only a tiny bit of chipping from the journey. Raven sets those aside and fills the kettle with some water to set it on the still glowing coals, poking at them a little. "Should have enough kick to boil…" Raven mumbles and rummages in his bag again.

This time he pulls out a cloth bag and in the process of dumping a respectable amount into his blue pot, Estelle realizes that they're actually tiny dried flowers with white petals and bright yellow insides. Despite herself she continues to watch the process, unaware of just how closely she's paying attention until the slight rattling of the kettle startles her.

Raven gives an apologetic shrugs and removes the kettle from the coals and pours the boiling water into the pot, giving it a swish and popping on the lid to let it steep.

Almost immediately Estelle begins to smell something flowery and slightly sweet, warm and summery.

"Chamomile," Raven says without her having to ask, and shakes the bag a little to drop a small shower of papery blossoms into Estelle's hand. She brings them to her nose and breathes in deeply and is surprised to find that the scent lingers. Inexplicably, her heartbeat (hard and rabbit quick as it tends to be around Raven these days) slows to something like normal. Raven sets the pot aside and brings out the little jar of honey that they keep around for oatmeal, giving the little spoon inside a swoosh to get rid of any crystals that may have formed, and drops a dollop of thick, liquid gold into two teacups.

He makes a point of making his movements very slow and very obvious; if Estelle was anyone else she might have found it insulting. As it is she knows why he does it as well as she knows why she watches his actions so intently.

Raven doesn't begrudge her the wariness nor comment upon it.

After several minutes, Raven opens the lid of the pot and peeks inside, satisfied with the steep because he gestures for Estelle to hand him a cup, which she does without complaint. The liquid that he pours is a bright yellow gold and smells of summer.

Estelle takes back the cup he hands her and watches the honey dissolve while Raven pours his own, sets the pot aside again. She's watched the whole process but doesn't taste the tea until he takes a sip of his own despite that it must be unbearably hot

She's not sure what she expects but it isn't what she gets, not at all. The tea's bright and tastes almost of apples but not quite and Estelle can't keep back the warmth that seeps down into her bones and chases away the almost perpetual tension in them. She feels loose-limbed and inexplicably calmed, not in the manner of a drug or a knockout concoction.

"It's good," she says quietly, "Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it, princess," Raven replies just as quietly, and they drink their tea in silence. Estelle wonders if he feels it the way she does or if it's entirely for her benefit; judging from the way he wraps his hands around the cup to soak up the warmth and breathes in deeply with every sip, she thinks he does.

For all her talk and thoughts of teamwork and working together, Estelle is a hypocrite and she knows it, and she knows it more from sitting on a log next to Raven and drinking tea than she ever has, because every so often Raven's eyes flick to her like he's making sure she's in one piece and Estelle doesn't know how to tell him that she isn't. Or maybe he knows that and he's checking anyway.

Estelle's running herself in circles and she doesn't know when she'll run herself into the ground.

The tea and the warmth in the air let her brush off the destruction of her own making and Estelle tightens her grip on the cup, desperately seeking the warmth that soothes and calms.

And Raven watches her, blue eyes knowing and understanding and Estelle hates it.

There's so much none of them say. So much that _she_ doesn't say that she probably should, that she might if not for the way the words tangle and knot in her throat before she can loose them. She can't speak for anyone else but herself and if anyone else has said anything, Estelle doesn't know about it.

"What are we doing?" she asks.

Raven blinks in open confusion and his mouth drops open. Then it shuts and he lets the surprise drip off his face like wet paint.

"Whatever we have to, princess."

That shouldn't be a satisfying answer but it is somehow, and Estelle loses herself in staring silently into a chipped but unbroken teacup. That is, until she jerks to attention with the feeling of hands on her shoulders supporting her. The moment she stiffens, Raven removes his hands like she's burned him.

"W-what?" Estelle's confused and kind of disoriented and doesn't understand how she could be sitting on a log one moment and then be millimeters away from crashing to the ground the next. Raven's hands hover as if waiting for it to happen again.

"You fell asleep and I...I didn't think you'd like it too much if I moved you." He's right, Estelle thinks. "So I put your blanket on you instead and, uh...that happened." Raven shrugs a little bit, almost sheepishly and Estelle tugs a little at the blanket draped around her.

"I'm sorry," she says unthinkingly when a wave of regret/guilt/shame/gratitude washes over her. She hasn't been particularly gracious towards Raven even though undeniably does so much for them, and she doesn't know if it's because she can't forgive him or if she can't forgive himself. Estelle always though her feelings would make things clearer, not tie her up in knots.

"What for?" Raven has to ask, and it's only the edges of sleep and the warmth left from the tea that let her answer.

"Everything."

Raven really _looks_ at her then and sees something that Estelle doesn't.

"Everything? That's a whole lot to be sorry for, princess," he says finally, not like he'd denying her but simply stating a fact. "Anything ol' Raven can do to help?"

The hopelessness that she's been staving off feels like it's going to crush her under its weight and Estelle clutches the blanket even closer, wrenched between fear, resentment, and the desperate, desperate need to not be afraid of him anymore. She needs the trust she used to have like she needs to trust Yuri or Rita or Judy or Karol, because some people can go through their lives looking over their shoulders but she can't, not like this.

She wants to trust Raven again. She wants to _like_ him again.

Estelle wants the chance to be the friend she wasn't before because only an idiot wouldn't be able to see why it was so _easy_ for Raven to betray them. She's so _stupid_ and she wants to scream.

"I-" she stammers. Raven waits patiently, if confused. "I-"

"Yes?" he asks gently, and before either of them know what's happening, Estelle's moving forward to fling her arms around him and press him close, her fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt and rumpling it hopelessly. Raven doesn't move, remaining slack and unprotesting in her grip, too shocked to move. Estelle squeezes him tighter.

"I'm s-so _mad_ at you!" Her words come out in a fragmented sob, "And I'm so _sorry _but I'm so _angry_-! And...and…"

And then Raven's hands which have so far been unmoving come up and press patterns into her shoulders through the blanket, tousle her hair.

"I know, princess. Believe me, I know."

Estelle chokes on a laugh/sob and doesn't move until she's positive that she won't cry and then she extracts herself, releasing Raven and rubbing fiercely at her eyes.

"You should get some sleep," Raven says like that explains everything and that's not _fair_, "You'll feel better in the morning."

Estelle doesn't believe him but listens anyway, shakily returning to her bedroll and covering herself back up. Sleep doesn't come easily; Estelle's too shaken up and the sleepy haze from the chamomile's long gone, but she curls up around her pillow and occasionally peers out from underneath her blanket cocoon.

Raven doesn't move or sidle off to bed himself or pace but stays where he is around the dying fire, every so often making a sharp noise that makes the bushes rustle with movement and then still, warning off against monsters that became more confident in the night. Every so often, he'll glance her way and nod, just once, before going back to whatever he does when he's on watch.

It's a reliable pattern, Estelle notes. She likes patterns.

Estelle doesn't know when she falls asleep but the next thing she knows there's sunlight on her face and everyone else is already awake.

When she joins them all around the fire she sees a familiar kettle set in amongst the coals and Raven cradling a teacup in his hands.

"Morning," he greets her like the last night didn't happen, "Fancy a cup?"

And Estelle does.

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AN2: Thank you for reading! If you liked this (or didn't like this) please leave a review and let me know what you thought.


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